How to Freak Out Your Roommate: Hetalia Style!
by DisturbingBunnyRabbit
Summary: Alfred is bored. So he decides to mess with his roommate, Arthur. Hopefully he pulls it off with all his limbs intact... College AU, no central pairings, but contains mentioned PruCan, and Francis's antics. On hiatus.
1. Prelude

**A.N.)** Erm…if you are re-reading this, you may notice some differences… I went back and revised and re-edited all the chapters, because, to be honest, I wasn't completely satisfied with the way the turned out before. I wasn't particularly proud of it, and it gave me a severe case of apathy…So, yeah…it's fixed now! XD Can't give you any estimates of the next update though, because I have so many other unfinished fics to consider as well. Despite that, please, enjoy and review. :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia or the actual list "101 ways to freak-out your roomate".

* * *

Arthur sighed heavily as he sat down on his college issued bunk bed. He had only been Alfred's roommate for a bit over two months and he already felt as if the experience had aged him by ten years. _If I have to hear him ramble on about heroes or hamburgers one more time, I swear I'll bloody kill him! _He thought to himself as he enjoyed the brief spell of quiet that settled over the (devoid of Alfred) dorm room. Of course, it didn't last long.

**"**Artie!"The obnoxious American shouted as he burst in through the door. Arthur groaned internally at the loss of peace before shouting back in return

**"**What**, **you insufferable git?" Alfred pouted and crossed his arms.

**"**Geez, do you always have to besuch a grump? I was just saying hello." Arthur put his hand to his forehead in a gesture of exasperation.

_Honestly,_ _I'm going to age prematurely if I have to live with this dolt_ _for another week, let alone a year..._

"Well, anyway Artie, I'm going to bed, it's pretty late." The Brittan glanced at his digital alarm clock, and was startled to find that it was already past eleven.

"Ah, I suppose I will too, then, seeing as how my first course starts at eight tomorrow..."

"Okay, Artie! Don't let the bedbugs bite!" The cheerful blond exclaimed as he climbed the metal rungs of his ladder to snuggle under the sheets of his respective bunk, clothes and all.

"Whatever." Arthur replied shortly. _I really must find a way to make him stop with that annoying nickname _He thought irritably. As Arthur settled into sleep, he had no idea that above him, Alfred was anything but tired.

_Soon. _Alfred thought. _Just ten minutes of waiting and then I can put my awesome plan into effect. _And he grinned to himself as he listened to the slow, even breaths of the young man below him. Minutes later, he quietly crept down from his bunk and rifled through the drawer of their shared desk to bring out a pair of scissors. He laid them on the top of the desk in plain sight, so Arthur would be sure to see them. Then he slowly pulled out the bag of blond hair clippings he had gotten from the Cosmetology section of the campus a few hours previous and carefully sprinkled some by the head of his now peacefully sleeping roommate. He had to repress a chuckle as he stowed the bag in his sock drawer and climbed back into bed. _Man, I can't wait till tomorrow _was his last thought before falling asleep.


	2. And so it begins

When Arthur woke up that morning, the first thing he registered was the buzzing of his alarm. (Obviously) The second thing, however, was that there seemed to be hair clippings on his pillow… Where his head was a minute ago… And the hair was blonde... Well, bloody hell.

"Alfred! What is the meaning of this?" Said roommate sat up quickly from his own bed and blinked at Arthur sleepily. Honestly, you'd think the alarm would have got him up by now.

"The meaning of what?" He said with a smirk. Oh, he obviously knew.

"Don't give me that! What have you done to my hair?" Alfred snickered.

"I don't know what you mean, Artie. Besides, why would I need to do anything? Your hair is already a mess without me having to screw it up." Arthur gave an angry growl in reply before he dashed over to the mirror that hung on the wall and desperately checked for bald patches, but he found nothing. He was just about to brush the incident off for now (He hadn't had his morning cup of tea yet, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with this rubbish first thing after waking) when a gleam caught his eye. Turning to the desk, he saw a pair of scissors lying innocently on the surface.

In a fit of rage, he snatched them up and hurled them at the blond (who was laughing hysterically) still on the bunk behind him. Alfred squeaked and ducked his head as the scissors hit the wall behind him with a thump.

"YOU BLOODY WANKER! YOU CUT MY HAIR!" No wonder he had been so eager to get to sleep last night. Arthur should have known, really. Alfred almost always whined when Arthur forced him to turn the lights off at 11:30 each night.

"Why so violent so early, huh? Jeez. And I did _not _cut it." Alfred's grin was so wide one would have thought his face would split. Arthur was about to give an angry retort, but he noticed the time flashing on the alarm clock. 7:29? How could that much time have passed? He still needed to shower, dress, and eat breakfast before gathering his books and heading to his first lecture!

"God damn it, look at the time!" He dashed to grab some clothes to change into before heading to the door. Stopping and turning to the (still giggling) American, he sneered "I'll deal with you later."

"Ooh, scary." Arthur, having no quicker way to express his rage, slammed the door before running like a madman to the communal bathrooms to shower. (Damn that man, he could hear his laughter from down the hall) As Arthur proceeded to take perhaps the quickest shower of his life, he thought

_I'll have to skip breakfast and just try to grab a bagel or something at the cafeteria later. Damn, how can I possibly function well enough to retain any information without my tea? Maybe I can risk being a little late and grab some Earl Grey from the campus Café… I'll be quick about it! But then what's the point of skipping Breakfast… _He was still thinking about this as he toweled off, (Well that, and how he would castrate Alfred later.) as he sprinted back to his dorm. As soon as he burst into the room he grabbed his books and turned right around to run frantically to his first class. At least the git had already begun gathering his own shower supplies by that time and he didn't have to deal with his idiocy.

Turns out Arthur couldn't stop even to order tea, and he only just barely made it to the lecture hall in time. He received a few snickers and a few questioning looks at his disheveled appearance and somewhat late entry, but he ignored them. Looking around for a free seat, he was waved over by a clearly amused Frenchman. Francis. Damn. Arthur looked around frantically for another seat, but there was none to be found. (This happened to be quite a large class) The only free seat was next the frog, and no surprise considering Francis had a penchant for groping people frequently, regardless of gender. He gave a defeated sigh before sliding into the seat, growling at the chuckle Francis gave at his obvious reluctance. As if his morning couldn't get worse.

"So, mon petit lapin, what has you in such a hurry this morning? Did you perhaps oversleep do to certain…night time activities with that American roommate of yours?" If there was anyone one more annoying than Alfred, it had to be Francis. The only people who could put up with him for extended amounts of time on a regular basis were Antonio and Gilbert, and Gilbert was as bad as Francis. (If not worse, his ego was frightful.)

"Hello? Arthur? Are you going to answer my question?" Arthur scowled at the man next to him.

"No, you bloody frog, I, unlike you, would never dream of participating in "Night time activities" with anyone with an IQ of less than 80."

"Oh honhonhon. Then maybe you would come over to my apartment later tonigh-"

"NEVER."

"… Well, aren't we feeling cruel this morning." Arthur sighed in frustration.

"Can we just _please _pay attention to the lesson, now? My morning has been taxing enough without you asking ridiculous and inappropriate questions." Francis pouted, but conceded to keep quiet for the remainder of the lecture. Although Arthur did find himself having to swat away a wondering hand every now and then. But that was to be expected, wasn't it?

As the hour came to an end, Francis put a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"What?"

"Is there something troubling you? Earlier, you said 'Please' to moi, of all people." Arthur blushed a bit before shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"Well, it's just…" Francis raised his eyebrow. "Does my… hair… seem OK to you this morning?" Francis broke out into a wide grin. "Oh honhonhonhonhon. I knew you would come to value my expert opinion on appearances eventually! If you wanted me to give you a haircut, you could have just asked! I would be more than happy to-"

"No, you fool! I only asked because I believe my idiot of a roommate cut my hair whilst I slept!"

"…Quoi? HE DID WHAT? Unforgivable! To purposefully mangle another person's hair is a grave sin! My deepest sympathies, Arthur! I will book you an appointment at my family's salon! I won't even charge you full price! I swear to you, I will fix your-"

"WILL YOU KINDLY BELT UP! I only need to know if my hair has been cut or if I have any bald patches! Now just check it quick because I only have one hour today before my next class AND I STILL HAVEN'T HAD ANY BLOODY TEA THIS MORNING!"

"…Fine. But we'll need to go outside so I can check properly." And so, that was how it came to be that Arthur found himself sitting on a bench in the university courtyard with a touchy-feely Frenchman combing through his hair. God, he was going to kill Alfred.


	3. Who are THEY?

Arthur sighed as he trudged back to his room. His day had gone somewhat normally after the… _Incident _that morning, but he just couldn't stop thinking about his hair. Even though Francis had said there was no obvious cutting, what if there was? What if that stupid frog was just pretending it was fine, and was secretly laughing about a huge clump of missing hair as he deceived him? Not that it would surprise Arthur if that arsehole did exactly that. Arthur was just turning the corner of the hallway when he spotted Alfred waiting for him outside their room. Alfred smiled and waved excitedly as Arthur came into view. Arthur promptly scowled in return. Who did that idiot think he was, acting like they were the best of friends after pulling that stunt last night?

"Hey, Artie!"

"What on earth do you think you're doing, standing out in front of the door like some buffoon?" Alfred gave a sheepish laugh and rubbed the back of his head.

"Forgot my room key again." Arthur rolled his eyes as he turned to unlock the door. He would have lectured the American, but this had happened so many times now that Arthur had come to realize he was simply wasting time and oxygen.

Arthur opened the door. And then he froze. Inside, the desk had been turned over, clothes and books lay strewn about, and Arthur's entire Beetles Album collection had seemingly thrown carelessly about the room. And then Arthur Shrieked. And this was no ordinary shriek. This was a shriek so shrill, so incredibly loud, that the entire hallway was thrown into momentary chaos. It caused Heracles to wake up from his deep slumber, (a feat Kiku had been attempting for the past 10 minutes) Feliciano to cling to his roommate Ludwig in terror, and it caused Ivan to giggle…Which in turn caused everyone around him at the time to feel uncomfortable.

"Uh-oh. Looks like _they_ were here again." Arthur spun toward his roommate.

"_Who _was here? But Alfred was already searching through the mess on the floor, and ignored him.

"Ah hah!" He exclaimed, straightening up with his wallet in hand. "I'm heading down to the Cafeteria for a burger. See you later." Alfred bounced happily out of the disaster zone, no doubt already dreaming of greasy, processed meat between a cheap, stale bun. Arthur spluttered indignantly as he watched him go. Did he honestly expect him to clean up this mess? And just who had the gall to trash their room anyway? And why did Alfred not seem concerned? Alfred might be easygoing most of the time, but Arthur happened to know that he was actually quite paranoid of people he didn't like "digging up dirt" on him. Arthur would have expected him to be busting down Diego's or Ivan's door by now, shouting at them for ransacking the room. (Alfred was honestly convinced Ivan was spying on him as it was…Although, that might actually be true…) Arthur furrowed his brow as he began delicately picking his way through the demolished room to begin cleaning. Really, Arthur was aware that Alfred thought with his stomach most of the time, but this lack of reaction was bizarre. And he had seemed to have known who did it, too. No matter. Arthur would deal with him later, _after_ making sure none of his Beetle records were scratched. If they were, Arthur would devote himself to hunting down the fiends who dared to defile his most precious belongings himself. If they were unharmed, he supposed he wouldn't bother reporting the crime. They had most likely come because of something Alfred related, and god knows Arthur wanted no part of that. Although he was a bit curious. Why was Alfred acting so out of character? Was something wrong with him? Not that Arthur cared about that git's well being. It's just that it would be troublesome for Arthur, seeing as he had to put up with living with him. Of course that was it…

Alfred managed to turn out of the hall before breaking into hysterical laughter. It had taken some work to get to the room early enough to trash it before Arthur got there, but it was _so _worth it all, just to see his reaction. That face! Oh, and that shriek! Absolutely priceless.

_I was going to make this a one day thing,_ he thought to himself. _But maybe I'll pick all my favorites on the list and keep going._ _Oh yeah, this going to be good, all right. _Hopefully Arthur didn't end up hating him when this was all over. Nah, of course that wouldn't happen. Alfred was too awesome and heroic to hate. Only creeps like Ivan could hate The Hero, after all.


	4. A kick in the gut

After (grudgingly) cleaning the disaster area, Arthur made his way down to the Campus Cafeteria. He deplored the food there, but he was really too tired to go out to eat that night. Besides, the food there was cheaper, and when one lived on the limited funds of a college student… One couldn't really afford to go out much anyway. Arthur sighed as he opened the doors to the cafeteria. He then turned his head suddenly in the direction of a rather familiar voice shouting: "You jerk!" Running towards him with a livid expression on his face, was no other than Alfred F. Jones.

Alfred watched the door of the cafeteria anxiously. He knew Arthur would most likely come down to eat after he finished cleaning, and he couldn't wait to try number five on the list…

"Hope I don't accidently hurt him…" Alfred mumbled to himself. This got the attention of his twin, Matthew.

"Al… I hope you're not planning something dangerous…" said Matthew with a disapproving look. Not that his brother would listen to him if he tried to stop him. And then when he got in trouble, he'd whine at Matthew for not warning him. That, or Matthew would be the one in trouble.

"Naw, I'm just messin' with Artie," replied Alfred carelessly.

"Al, you shouldn't do that! If you make him mad at you, you'll have to room with someone that hates you for another whole year at least! And don't you have enough enemies as it is?" the quieter twin asked earnestly.

"Pffft. Artie could never hate me! He's too awesome to hate The Hero!" exclaimed Alfred.

"The Hero of what? Oh, never mind…" Matthew sighed. "But please, don't use the word awesome. I hear that word far too often from my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? What boyfriend?" Alfred asked, his attention finally focused on his brother. Matthew sighed in exasperation.

"We've been over this before! Gilbert, remember? We've been dating for almost three weeks now! Honestly, sometimes I feel like you never listen to me…" He trailed off.

Alfred stood up, his attention riveted on Arthur, who had just come through the door. His conversation with his brother was forgotten. With a shout of "You jerk!" Alfred was off and running towards the Britt, who had turned with a shocked expression to face the sprinting American. Matthew watched with wide, confused eyes as Alfred stopped suddenly in front of his roommate. Then they widened in horror as his brother raised his foot and kicked Arthur in the stomach.

Reeling with the force of the kick, Arthur let out a loud yelp as he fell backwards on to his bum. And once over his initial shock, he promptly emitted a stream of curses. Alfred leaned over and grabbed the shorter student under his arms, hauling him up easily.

"So Artie, how about I buy you some ice cream?" the American asked with an expectant expression. Arthur stared at him open mouthed, before cursing loudly.

"Put me down, you IDIOT! What the bloody HELL was_ that_ for, you arse! Are you _mental?_" Struggling himself out of his roommates grip, the irate blond stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Dinner be damned, he was no longer in any mood to eat.


	5. Locked out

Alfred stood outside his dorm room, contemplating the merits of remembering to take your keys with you if you knew you were about to piss off your roommate.

"C'mon, Artie! Please let me in! I'm sorry!"

"If you're so sorry, then you should have never kicked me in the gut, then, should you have?"

"But Artieeeeeeee! Where am I supposed to sleep?" Whined the American in response.

"That's your own damn problem!"

Alfred frowned. It really didn't seem like Arthur was going to give in. Oh, well. Hopefully he'd be over it by tomorrow. In the mean time, Alfred would concentrate on preparing for his next little act of "insanity". He'd avoid things that involved physical assault from now on, though… Number seventeen would do… But where on earth was he going to get the materials necessary?

"Alfred-san." A quiet voice sounded behind him. Whirling around, Alfred came face to face with Kiku Honda, his video gaming buddy and neighbor from across the hall. Jeez, Kiku had startled him.

_ I swear, he's like a freaking ninja or something, _thought the blond.

"Ah, I do not mean to seem forward, but I could not help but over hear your predicament. Heracles and I would be most honored if you would grace our room with your presence this evening, if it is no trouble to you," Kiku said with a solemn face. Alfred blinked before the roundabout and overly formal invitation made its meaning known to him.

Breaking into a grin, he exclaimed "Oh, thanks a bunch, Kiku! I'll be along in half an hour or so. I actually have something I need to do first."

"Of course. Please, take your time. We will be eagerly awaiting your arrival," replied the Asian with a slight bow. Alfred rolled his eyes. You would think Kiku would have learned to loosen up some around him by now.

"Okay, thanks!" Alfred called as he dashed down the hall. He began making his way to the room of the one person he thought might have what he needed. (The person who also just so happened to be dating his brother) Gilbert Beilschmidt. It wasn't long before he came to the room that contained the by all accounts crazy albino. He had once had a roommate, and then another, and another, but eventually they all moved out. As Arthur had said to him many times, he was probably the only person louder, more obnoxious and egotistical than Alfred himself. Personally, Alfred thought Gilbert was pretty cool, even if he did say he was more awesome than him. (Which was so _not _true)

"Giiiiilbert! Giiiiiiilbert!" Alfred called as he banged his fist against the door. Suddenly, it swung open; revealing a smirking Albino with a small yellow chick perched on his head.

"Kesesesese! And what brings you to my awesome self this evening?" drawled the arrogant German. (Self proclaimed Prussian, but nobody paid any attention to his crazy ramblings half the time.)

"I need some help driving my roommate insane," replied the blond with a smirk. Gilbert chuckled.

"Messing with caterpillar brows? I'm in. What do you need?"


	6. What Alfred got from Gilbert: Revealed!

Arthur sighed to himself as he packed up his books and stood from his lecture hall seat. In the end, he had ended up allowing Alfred to move back in the next day, after he spent only one night in Kiku and Heracles' room. He just couldn't seem to stay angry with that idiot.

_ But, _he thought darkly, _if he ever tries something like that again, I'll give him the old Glasgow kiss. _As he was thinking this, he heard an obnoxiously French chuckle from behind him.

"Oh honhonhonhonhon. What is wrong, Arthur? Is your roommate causing you trouble again? Because you know, you can always move in with moi~" Arthur growled before whipping around to face Francis.

"If you must know, yes, I am having trouble with that oaf! He _kicked _me in my stomach the other night! And our room was broken into and he didn't even care!" Shouted the Brit, venting all his frustration in one short rant. Francis frowned.

" He didn't really kick you, did he? That is unacceptable. You could try applying for a new roommate, you know." He said seriously and with a bit of concern. Arthur blinked at him in surprise. He hadn't thought Francis would actually care about his safety. It was actually a bit… touching.

"Oh… No, it's alright. He knocked me over, but it didn't actually hurt that much… I'm sure he didn't mean to cause me actual harm, whatever the case."

"He knocked you over! And you don't think he meant to hurt you?" Francis said with slight alarm. Arthur blanched. That had come out sounding much worse than it was.

"No, see, the kick wasn't that hard, his foot just sort of followed me when I was forced back and kind of pushed me to the ground, so…" He said hurriedly. Honestly, it really hadn't hurt. Much. It wasn't as if he had a bruise or anything.

"Arthur." Francis said gravely as he placed his hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "You are starting to sound like an abused girlfriend defending her boyfriend. You know you can tell me if you are in trouble." He began rubbing Arthur's back as if to soothe him. Arthur felt his face heat up from the affectionate gesture and attempted to bat Francis' hand away. Only to have it rest on his lower back.

"Would you stop it already? I said I'm fine! I-" He was cut off as he gave a loud squeak of surprise. Francis' hand had decided to migrate south and give his buttocks a firm squeeze.

"Oh honhonhonhonhon…" Arthur turned around and punched the smug Frenchman's left cheek with all his might. He grabbed his things and stormed away angrily, taking pleasure in listening to the French curses behind him. How dare he? Arthur should have known that perverted git only wanted to grope him. Already in a foul mood, he slammed open the door of his dorm after unlocking it and promptly…froze. All around the room, pictures of chicks were hung on the walls. Not "chicks" as in the American slang for young women. Chicks as in baby chickens. Everywhere. What. The. Bloody. Hell.

Outside the room, Alfred peered at his flustered roommate while taking care not to be seen. Arthur was clearly very confused, and this gave the American no small amount of joy. He grinned as he made a mental note to thank Gilbert later. Alfred had been right in thinking that the albino would have chick photos and posters. The guy was weird like that. He loved cute things, and he even had a beloved pet chick (Alfred thought it was a chick, anyway) he let sit on his head. The list had called for chickens, not chicks, but Alfred figured this was fine. Alfred certainly didn't know where he'd find pictures of chickens, anyway. Muffling a snicker, Alfred turned and started down the hall, leaving his roommate to come to his own conclusion about the appearance of the strange images. Next up on the list was number twenty three, and that meant a trip to Office Max*.

**A.N.)**

*Office Max: An office supply store, popular with students as well as the work force. Usually carries such merchandise as pens, pencils, folders, paper, calculators, notebooks, etc.

Erm…if you are re-reading this, you may notice some differences… I went back and revised and re-edited all the chapters, because, to be honest, I wasn't completely satisfied with the way the turned out before. I wasn't particularly proud of it, and it gave me a severe case of apathy…So, yeah…it's fixed now! XD Can't give you any estimates of the next update though, because I have so many other unfinished fics to consider as well.


	7. Arthur the cannibal

Arthur was baffled. He stared at the posters and pictures plastered to his walls and just groaned before trudging over to his bunk and flopping down. He had a head ache. He wasn't even going to try to understand this. There was no point. As he had no more classes that day, and he had already worked on a good portion of his homework, (Shut up, he did too have a social life, he was just responsible! Unlike like _some _people he knew…) so he decided to settle down for a nap.

He woke up to the sound of feet tromping noisily in the room. Oh, it would appear Alfred was back. Arthur flipped his pillow over his head and buried his face in the mattress. Maybe he could get back to sleep. He had been having the loveliest dream about coming first place in an international cooking competition, and he would rather like to get back to shoving his trophy into Francis' normally smug face. But of course, Alfred was not about to let him enjoy any peace while in his presence.

"Hey, Artie! Are you up?" Arthur just groaned in response. Really, why him? Why was he pegged with the loudest most immature roommate available? Even rooming with one of his bullying older brothers would be preferable to this! Well, actually, that probably wasn't true… At least with Alfred he didn't need to worry that he would wake up in the middle of the courtyard in a maid costume…God, he had hated high school. Why his parents saw it fit to send them to that damn boarding school was beyond him. His thoughts were promptly interrupted as he felt the bedding slide from beneath him, and he was deposited rather on gracefully on the floor. Cursing, he sat up, glaring at the American's shit eating grin with annoyance.

"What the hell do you want?" Arthur spat out. Alfred pouted and replied,

"I was just waking you up for dinner! If we don't go soon, the cafeteria will be closed." Arthur blinked and glanced at his digital alarm clock. Huh. He was right.

"…Very well then, but there are more polite ways of doing so, you oaf." He said after a moment. Standing up, he brushed off his clothes and his eyes were drawn to the opposite wall. There, on the floor, lay a couple dozens of pens. Arthur crinkled his brow in confusion before being grabbed roughly by the wrist and dragged out of the room.

"C'mon, Artie! No time to waste! The Hero needs his fuel!" The more excitable of the two blonds exclaimed as he continued to drag his grumbling roommate down to the cafeteria.

Once they had sat down after buying their meals, Arthur glanced across the table to watch the American as he messily stuffed one of his cheeseburger down his gullet. Now seemed like an opportune time to inquire about the other's strange behavior.

"…Alfred?" Arthur asked.

"M'yesh?" Alfred mumbled around his food. Arthur wrinkled his nose slightly in distaste but continued anyway.

"Would you care to explain you odd behavior as of late?" The blued eyed blond across from him blinked in apparent confusion for a second before swallowing.

"Odd? I don't know what you mean, Artie." He said innocently. A bit too innocently to be believable. Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"Don't you give me that! What is with the hair clipping, the chick posters, and the trashed room? Not to mention kicking me in the stomach! And why are there so many pens piled on the one side of our room?" Alfred shrugged his shoulders casually.

"I'm starting a pen collection. And as for the other…" Alfred trailed off and stared at Arthur's plate with a look of horror. Arthur glanced down and could find nothing out of the ordinary about his tray.

"What? What are you bloody staring at?" Arthur asked in confusion. Alfred open and closed his mouth as if trying to form words.

"Is…Is that...A chicken sandwich on your plate?" Alfred asked in a quiet, shaky voice.

"Um, yes?" Alfred got a disgusted look on his face before glaring at Arthur.

"You cannibal!" Alfred accused revulsion and anger dripping from every syllable. Arthur sat still, motionless and mute with shock.

"…What? You do know the definition of 'cannibal' right? I'm not-" Arthur didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Alfred stood up abruptly from the table and tossed the remains of his dinner in a nearby trash can. Sending one last scathing look over his shoulder, Alfred stomped out of the Cafeteria and left one terribly confused British person in his wake.

Alfred made it about two thirds of the way down the hall before dissolving into gales of laughter. After a few minutes, he straightened up and grinned. He probably had just enough time left for number thirty if he hurried. Chucking, Alfred darted up the stairs two at a time to reach his room so he could continue confusing and frustrating his grumpy friend.

_Now…Where did I put that superglue? _


End file.
